


Whumptober Drabbles 2020

by tifaching



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Buried Alive, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Episode: s09e15 Blood Lust, Gen, Hell Fic, Implied/Referenced Torture, Smart Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifaching/pseuds/tifaching
Summary: Dean and Alastair.  For the prompt-shackles.  Angst, hell fic, implied torture.
Kudos: 10





	1. Shackles

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to do a drabble a day for the month of October. It will be a tagging nightmare because of the possibility of so many different things going on. So, I'll try to put as many things in the tags as possible. 
> 
> The summary of each drabble/ chapter will include the prompt and any warnings I can think of. Proceed with caution!

It’s been years in the making. Decades. Dean’s seen it coming for weeks; battle lost long ago, though he’s got a smidgeon of pure cussed Winchester stubbornness keeping him from admitting defeat for just a bit longer. A few more seconds. A minute. He can hold out a minute, for fuck’s sake. The shackles that tether him to the rack are barely necessary now. Even without their weight dragging at the exposed bones of his wrists and ankles he wouldn’t move. Resistance hangs on the thinnest bit of sinew. One quick swipe of Alastair’s scalpel severs it from him completely.


	2. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag to Blood Lust Apologies, I forgot the whump.

It was fun back in the day. Something to pass interminable drive time. Sam's unsure who thought it up though he'd lay odds it was his father. It would be just like the old man to turn training Sam hated into a game.

He's conscious when they leave the nest, cloth bag draped over his head. Eyes closed he orients himself and begins counting seconds, cataloging turns. Dean could be beside him instead of a couple of vampires. Four and a half minutes out they reach the bridge and he can pinpoint the motel _and_ the farm.

_Thank you, Dad_


	3. Buried Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag to Lazarus Rising.

It’s a trick. Dean lies still for a moment listening, but hearing only his own ragged breathing. _Breathing_. Dean drags air into his lungs, stale but lacking any hint of sulfur. Heart pounding, he shifts, feet thumping against something that gives at the impact. 

He reaches into the pocket of the jeans he finds himself wearing, pulling out his lighter with a stifled sob. Its flickering light barely illuminates the wooden box enclosing him. Hoarse cries bring no response and staying put isn’t an option. His knuckles shred as he punches his way out, takes a deep breath, and digs.


End file.
